Headmaster
by b e f r e e
Summary: Some of his days as Headmaster seemed to fade into one another and disappear into a foggy recollection of paperwork and meetings. Other days stuck out unforgettably as some of the best and worst memories of his career.


**A/N:** I originally intended this to be a oneshot, but the idea has already spanned another 16 pages (and I _still_ haven't stumbled upon a suitable title). I will post as I edit. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise.

 **Chapter One**

To be a Headmaster of Hogwarts was to become one of the most well-recognized names in Wizarding Britain. It was a title held by famous men like Albus Dumbledore, infamous men like Phineas Nigellus, and the talented Dilys Derwent. Now it was held by-well, a nobody. A small article in the _Daily Prophet_ had been dedicated to him that morning, announcing his position and depicting him as a down-to-earth man who was married to a lovely, hard-working local innkeeper. It had briefly mentioned that he'd fought in the Second War and that he had been one of the youngest Hogwarts professors to be hired since war hero Severus Snape. But really, who was anybody kidding? How well could anyone truly believe _Neville Longbottom_ could represent the best Wizarding school in the country, if not the world?

"Headmaster?" a knock on the door announced the arrival of the Deputy Headmaster.

Gaspard Shingleton was a tall, older gentleman with a graying but full head of hair and who always carried the smell of his Potions classroom with him. He was also the Ravenclaw head of house and Neville quite liked the man. In his time as Herbology professor, Neville had been more than happy to provide Professor Shingleton's Potions students with fresh ingredients and they had developed an amicable professional relationship that Neville felt had began to turn into a true friendship.

"Gaspard, I told you not to call me that," Neville told him, as he sat down in front of Neville's desk.

He smiled. "It must feel odd," the man said, "To have been one of the youngest Professors, not to mention Head of House at Hogwarts, and now you're Headmaster already. It's been what, ten years?"

"Not even ten," Neville smiled nervously. "Still don't know _what_ they were thinking."

Gaspard studied him for a moment. "They're thinking that you'll be here, keeping this school right and in order for a lot longer than any of the rest of us old coot," he let out a dry laugh. "But anyways, the feast starts in a few hours."

Neville nodded. "The students are on the train, the Head Boy and Girl have each contacted me and have already held a prefects' meeting onboard. They'll be meeting me here tonight after the feast to discuss patrol and living quarters. So far no incidents."

"And that boy?"

Neville hesitated, though he had no question as to who 'that boy' was. "He will be arriving by train with the other students. I had to send a mediator in a car to escort him to the train station."

"I was under the impression that his parents were quite set against the idea of sending him here."

Neville sighed. "Yes. They were. They still aren't completely convinced, to be honest, but I sent one of the most convincing examples of a successful Muggleborn I could think of. She was very careful about what parts of the magical world she showed them."

"The Ministry doesn't usually have to be so selective in who they send." Gaspard clearly thought that the person had confounded the muggle parents, a practice that was far from unheard of but entirely illegal.

"I asked Hermione Weasley nee Granger," Neville told him, and Gaspard's eyebrows shot up. "No coercive measures were used, I assure you. Just a matter of omission, I think."

"Brilliant girl, isn't she? I just read her article in Brews Magazine. She's quite the multi-talented witch."

"She is," Neville assured him. "She's the reason I got a D in Potions throughout Hogwarts instead of a T. Her brilliance was not the only reason I asked her specifically, though."

"Oh?"

"Hermione also has a close relationship with one of the other first-year boys. I was hoping that she might keep in touch with this boy's parents."

"Well thought," Gaspard smiled. "I do believe that you will make an excellent Headmaster. I should get down to the entrance hall, though," he stood up and pulled something from his pocket. "The other staff members asked me to deliver this."

Neville scrambled to catch the package thrown in front of him.

"Personally, I thought you'd need this more," Shingleton smirked, and tossed a second, hastily wrapped package at him before he turned to leave. "I'll see you at the feast."

Neville opened his mouth to thank him, but the door was already closed.

The first package contained a small, skinny silver box engraved with the Hogwarts crest and the words 'Headmaster Neville Longbottom'. It was a wand box lined with black velvet, and it was beautiful. The second package was from Shingleton, wrapped in yesterday's _Prophet_ funnies. The man had given him a bottle of Muggle whiskey and a lowball glass with the Hogwarts coat of arms etched beautifully into the side. Neville placed both gifts in the front drawer of his desk and smiled to himself as he shrugged on his nicest set of robes. He was oddly calm as he left to prepare for his first Hogwarts feast as Headmaster.


End file.
